


One Door Shuts

by 74days



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Different Realities, Crossover, F/M, Gen, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Ships to be added - Freeform, Stiles / McKay are my brotp here, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, W.I.P
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/74days/pseuds/74days
Summary: It's the one rule Stiles has never broken - Do Not Go Near The Death Circle.  It's not his fault that he was being shown the way there by some cosmically attuned Wisps, right? Anyway, Derek was there, so it's partly his fault.Oh, and the fact that there are ACTUAL PEOPLE walking out of the Gate is... um... He can't be blamed for that too - can he?-A story I didn't know I wanted to write - requested by laughingcatwrites





	One Door Shuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaughingCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingCat/gifts).



Derek looked up at his mother with a frown. It might have been a little more impressive if he wasn’t 4 years old and still clinging to his puppy fat - pudgy cheeks and dimples didn’t help him look as tough as he was trying to be. “But whyyyyyy?” He whined, voice adorably squeaky. 

“Because,” Talia said, smoothing out his hair with an absent hand as she looked at him. “It’s always been like that. We have an emissary, who can use the magic of the old ones. We protect them, they protect us.”

“But how is it gotta be him?” Derek pouted. “He’s only a baby! Can’t it be one of my friends?” he paused, “not a new baby just birthed?”

Talia smiled. “Derek, can and of your friends use magic?”

To give him some credit, he did look like he was seriously considering the question. After a while he shook his head. 

“And that is why it’s him. His parents are very worried. It’s going to be our job to make sure that he’s safe.”

“In case the soul-eaters come back.”

“In case.” She nodded. “But darling, remember - they haven’t been here in hundreds of years. Don’t listen to your uncle Peter. We keep the traditions because that's what we do.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the head. “That's  _ why  _ we are  _ what  _ we are.”

“Wolves.”

“Wolves.” She agreed. 

“And so it’s  **_got_ ** to be the baby?”

She nodded. “Derek, don’t worry. Babies grow so fast. You’ll be playing games with him in no time.” 

* * *

 

“I hate him.” Derek said, stalking into the house and right up the stairs, slamming the door so loud that all of the beings in the house flinched. Sometimes advanced hearing really wasn’t a bonus. 

“That’ll be Derek home then,” Kristoff said, coming out of the kitchen where he’d been cleaning up everything after dinner. Which, of course, Derek had missed. Again. 

“However did you guess?” Talia  sighed. “Was it the warm welcome and joyful laughter?”

Her husband laughed, handing her a mug of something she knew would be strong enough to affect even her, the Alpha of her pack. He really was a treasure. “He’s 13 years old.” He pointed out, as she took a sip. “Remember Laura at that age?”

Casting her mind back wasn’t hard, and she took another,  _ much  _ larger drink of the brew. 

“Exactly. We got off lightly with this one.” He smiled. “And I don’t think it’s much to do with him, but the emissary.” 

“Good lord.” She agreed, nodding. “I’d take teenage Laura for life rather than half an hour with that child.” She paused. “It’s not that he’s bad!” She added, hastily, because no one could say that. He was smart, fast, funny and generally too adorable for words. “It’s just he’s…  **_on_ ** … all the time.”

“I don’t think he sleeps.”

“I think he does.” She disagreed. “I just think it doesn’t stop him from  _ talking _ .” 

* * *

* * *

 

Stiles loved the woods. The town was built right on the edge - when he was a kid he didn’t understand why anyone would want to live so close to the death circle, but when he started to read everything - - and he really did mean, everything - he could find, it made sense. Sure, the Wraith would come through the ‘Gate’ like the demons they were, but the defence mechanisms that the old Sparks left in place were nearby too - by keeping the new Sparks by the Gate, they were able to protect the whole town faster. 

Anyway, Stiles loved the woods. They were awesome. There were trees older than his house, the air always smells clean, especially after the rains had fallen, and he always saw something interesting - even if it was just a fox. He started hanging out in the woods more when he saw his first Whisp. They were supposed to be omens. Good or bad, that depended - but they always signaled  _ something _ . He started seeing them regularly a few months ago, and (because he was raised right, and he’s read all the books he could get his hands on) he didn’t follow the lights.

But not today. Today, he was 18 years old and he was going to figure out what the Whisps were so excited about in the woods. He’d come prepared, a torch, a bag of snacks, a pen and a notebook (to write shit down for the next generation of Sparks) and a bat. Just in case. The Whisp might be showing him the way, but that didn’t mean it was going to be a  _ safe  _ way. 

He hadn’t been following them for more than a half hour when he realised where they were talking him.

“Well, shit.” He said, pausing. 

There weren’t a lot of rules about the forest. His dad was pretty laid back for a law man, but there were a few. And Stiles was gonna break the biggie.

Do not, under any circumstances, go within a mile of the Death Circle.

The Whisp didn’t stop though, disappearing through the trees like a breath. Stiles never really paid a lot of attention to rules. Mostly they seemed a little dull and a lot restrictive, but this one seemed to make sense. People getting to close might activate the Gate, wake the sleeping Soul Eaters. Stiles felt a twist in his gut. Another Whisp appeared, following the one before it, tugging at the core of him, where his Spark lived. He’d broken a lot of rules. He’d never even tried to break this one. 

“If the Death Circle activates, you know I’m telling mom it was you, right?” A voice that should not have warmed Stiles down to his toes said, from about 3 feet to the left of him. 

“I wasn’t-” He stopped himself, because everyone knew wolves could tell when you lied. “I  _ was _ , but then I stopped.”

Derek stepped out of the darker shadows (Stiles had long given up on how Derek always managed to find the darkest parts of any area to brood in. Give the man a brightly lit room and he’d find a dark corner) and glared. It would have been impressive if he hadn’t been looking at Stiles like that from the day he was born. Seriously, someone had pictures of Derek glaring down at Stiles all wrapped up, fresh from the mid-wife. Tiny little pouty Derek and pink, wrinkly newborn Stiles. It pretty much summed up their relationship. 

“How long were you going to stop for?” Derek said. He was wearing those stupid tight jeans and a leather jacket that looked so fucking cool. Derek always managed to look cool when Stiles had always managed to look like he’d just rolled out of bed and thrown on whatever was on his bedroom floor. Of course, 9 times out of 10, that was actually the case. He wasn’t proud of that. 

He also wasn’t proud of the way that he knew Derek knew he was gonna break the damn rule and follow the Whisp. “Why are you even asking?” He shot back instead. “Are you stalking me? I feel like you’re stalking me. My dad's the law around here.” He pointed out, like Derek might have forgotten. “And he’ll believe me over you.” He paused again, because Dereks lip twitched there, and that was about as much of an outright laugh from him. “He would at least give me the benefit of the doubt!” 

“Why are you out here anyway?” DErek asked, and STiles didn’t want to think it was nice of him not to call him out on the doubt that his dad might not actually take his side in an argument. 

“Whisps.” Stiles shrugged. “They keep showing up and leading me out this way and I thought…”

“You’d follow the bad omens to see what happened.” DErek deadpanned. When he said it like that it did sound a bit… stupid.

“They aren’t always bad omens.” He pointed out. “Just omens.” 

Derek just looked at him. Zero facial expression, unless you counted the glare, which Stiles was pretty sure he was immune to at this stage in his life. 

“I’m going to see what’s going on.” Stiles said after the silence in the small clearing pulled into ‘uncomfortable’ - there was only so long Stiles could look at Derek without his heartbeat doing weird things in his chest. He was lucky none of the wolves had been cruel enough to mention it. 

“I suppose I’m lucky you decided to be stupid in the middle of the day.” Derek said, shrugging. “Last time-”

“Dude! Last time there was a dead body in the quarry!” He shot back, quickly. “A body! I had to go look - I had to investigate -”

“Of course you did.” 

“I did! In case it was Spark related.” 

“Does that work on anybody around here, Stiles?”

Stiles couldn’t help his smile. He’d known Derek for a long time. From the moment he was born, even. Someone had pictures. “You’re going to come with me.” He said, grin getting wider when Derek didn’t turn and walk away. “You knew I was going to do it.” He knew he sounded a little too gleeful at the prospect. He had his reasons, okay? No one really believed Stiles. Sure, they trusted him not to get them all killed, and they knew he had a Spark, but they didn’t believe him most days. 

Derek on the other hand… Derek never did anything wrong. Derek was the darling of the over 60’s - how he cleared the sidewalks in the winter, how he would make sure that the generators never gave out in the dead of night. He could be seen most mornings jogging through the town (shirtless, which was why he was the darling of the 30-to-50’s) in a not-so-subtle patrol of Hale land. And if Derek was going to tag along, Stiles knew that if the shit did hit the fan, Derek would soften the blow. Probably. At least a little. 

* * *

 

Derek heard the noise before Stiles did, but Stiles knew something was up before then. The tugging at his gut was getting stronger, and then… nothing. Like a thread had been cut. “Something's wron-” He managed, before Derek half shifted, running toward where Stiles assumed the Gate was. He didn’t fall too much behind, thanks to Coaches ridiculous training over the summer to get them all in shape for lacrosse, and he nearly ran directly into Derek when the other man stopped dead in his tracks. The reason was very clear, just beyond the treeline. The Gate was already open. 

* * *

 

Derek didn’t think that Stiles had anything to do with the open gate - the shimmering mirror was beautiful the way that dangerous things often are. Around the gate there were machines, bags - things that looked like someone was setting up a base. It didn’t look like the Wraith - but Derek (and Stiles too, despite all his learning) had only ever read about. Pale, tall, dangerous. They had ships that flew in the sky with a scream - the only warning before they would decimate whole towns. And the wards weren’t glowing. Derek could see them around the Gate - dormant. He wasn’t sure what they should look like, but he’d been sneeking out to the Gate for years and they looked… like they always had.

Then, like something out of a childrens story, people came through the liquid pool. “Not Wraith.” Stiles whispered behind him, like Derek was some kind of idiot. He was too busy trying to work out if they were a danger to turn around and glare, but he knew that Stiles understood from the huff behind him. “Just saying.” 

“And I was right.” One of the men were saying. He wasn’t as tall, not as athletic looking as the other men (lean, fit, muscular, his brain supplied. A threat) “Of course, I’m always right, but you’d think by now people would know better.” He continued to talk, Derek couldn’t tell if he was actually holding a conversation or just talking for the sake of it. He knew someone like that. The universe was cruel enough to make two. 

The largest one - the most dangerous one, going on the tattoos, various weapons and general swagger - looked like he’d like nothing more than to shut the smaller one up. 

“Hellloooo, medic,” Stiles breathed, a puff of air warm on the back of Derek's neck where he was leaning close to see around him. “That is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.” 

“The mouthy one?” Derek ground out. “I see the attraction, he hasn’t shut up since he walked through the Gate.” 

“Har. Har.” Stiles whispered. They both knew the treeline was giving them only temporary cover, but they had made no attempt to move. “You know fine well I mean tall, dark and violent.” 

“We should set up camp here.” The woman said, looking around. “We don’t know when it will be dark - and the villagers might not be welcoming to strangers showing up in the middle of the night.”

Smart, Derek thought. Perhaps she was the leader - she seemed to ooze confidence. He tried not to think about how much that reminded him of his mother or sister. It was much sexier when the person wasn’t related to him. It took him too long to realise that Stiles wasn’t actually behind him anymore - not until he heard him call out. 

“I assume you aren’t here to kill us all?” He was saying, walking into the clearing like a damn fool. The people who had come through the Gate had already pulled out their various weapons - not the talking one, he was just watching, silent now - and Derek cursed the ancients as he stepped out of what little cover he had to follow Stiles. The little shit was going to get them both killed. The male at the front - shorter hair, styled a little like Derek's, actually - looked down the barrel of a gun that looked a lot more deadly than the one Stiles father kept strapped to his waist. 

“Not right now,.” He said, clipped tones, taking the lead. Okay, so maybe this was the boss. Human dynamics weren’t Derek's strong point. His worry for Stiles had obviously addled his brain, because it took a beat too long for him to notice that the guns were trained on him now, not Stiles. Of course. It was obvious that he was more of a threat. Any hope of these being traders from some distant place evaporated. These were fighters. Used to danger. 

“Yay. Us neither.” Stiles added. “Are you here to kill us and eat us?”

“No.” The guns didn’t move from where they were trained on Derek. 

“Are you sure? Cause right now you look very kill-y. You know, with the guns and the knives and the thighs.” 

“We’re not the ones with fangs and the rage.” The leader said, managing to keep Stiles in his eyeline and Derek at the deadly end of the gun he was holding. He made no reference to thighs, thank god. 

“That’s just his face.” Stiles shrugged. “He can’t help it. He was born that way. You shouldn’t make fun of the less fortunate.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek snapped. For a moment he forgot that he was about to be killed because of the stupid pain in the ass emissary. 

Someone was trying to stifle a laugh - Derek snapped around to find it was the attractively powerful woman. Great. She had lowered her weapon though, which was nice. “He’s an idiot.” He said, looking at her. 

“Hey!”

“We have one of our own.”

“Hey! I happen to be the smartest person on this planet right now-”

“Says you.” Stiles shot back, and Derek might be the only wolf in the area but Stiles hackles were rising. “I don’t even know you - how do you know I’m not twice as smart as you?”

“Well,” The man said, looking like he was actually going to launch into a speech, or give a demonstration. 

“Both of you, just shut up.” The leader said, lowering his gun with a sigh. “Seriously? You’re about to get into a pissing contest with a child?”

“He started it.” Stiles grumbled, and Derek could not help the growl that rumbled in the back of his throat. “Oh, shut it, sourwolf.” 

“I’m Teyla Emmagan.” The woman said, walking forward. Derek knew that for all she was looking casual and at ease, she was wound as tightly as a spring - her heart beating too fast to be relaxed. 

He stepped forward holding out his hand, before realising that he was still in the half shift. No wonder she was nervous of him. “Sorry,” He said, stepping back and taking a breath, letting the shift fall back into place. He didn’t miss the twitch to raise the guns, but thankfully, they didn’t try to shoot him. “Wolf.”

“See? Now he has eyebrows. We can all be friends.” 

A pause and then: “So where do they go?”

Derek didn’t mean to groan in exasperation at the smaller man's question - but Stiles was already crowing with laughter. “See? See? Even aliens think it’s weird! Your mom keeps hers!” 

“I will seriously eat you.” Derek snapped. “I would have ripped your throat out with my-”

“Teeth,” Stiles cut in, making what he called his ‘scary Derek face’ and holding up his hands like they were claws “years ago if I didn’t think it would make your dad sad.” He finished, mocking Derek’s voice. Derek really, really hated him. “Stiles. Thats me, by the way, Ms Emmagan, and Mr Grumpy-pants here is Derek Hale. We live here. Peaceful. Without killing or eating- and we’d like to keep it that way.”

The leader stepped forward, looking at Stiles. “John Sheppard. We’re exploring - looking for trade.”

“And Wraith to kill.” The tall, muscular one said. Derek really didn’t like the way Stiles eyes lingered too long on that one. Derek didn’t realise that he was used to that particular expression of focus being only on him. 

“Well, I’m not sure about trade,” Stiles said, finally tearing his eyes away from the muscled thug. “But like, there are no Wraith here.” 

“When was the last cull?” Teyla asked, like this was a normal question. 

“Uh, like…” Stiles floundered. The books weren’t that forthcoming on dates, Derek knew, because when he was reading then, Stiles would complain loudly and often and for some reason Derek was always around when Stiles was learning. “Well… technically I’m not sure, but - like… the last time was just after the Ancient wards were put up so… maybe like…. A couple thousand years?” He paused. “No! Wait! There was an attack back like… maybe 900 years or so ago, because the emissary mentioned it, like in passing, seriously, it was like they didn’t know how to keep a half decent journal, you should see what I’ve got to deal with here it’s barbari-”

“No Wraith?” She seemed… surprised. “At all?”

“Well, they’re all dead.” Stiles shrugged. “The ancients killed them all. There was like, maybe a ship or so left over, but… yeah. Gone.” 

Derek looked at the face of what was apparently a peaceful trading party armed to the teeth and made a decision. “I think we should take you into town.” 

* * *

 

“Dude, they are asking about the Wraith.”

“I know.” Derek ground out, as they lead the team - from someplace called Atlantis that made Stiles heartbeat rocket into dangerous territory when it was mentioned. Derek didn’t know everything Stiles learned about being an Emissary, but he thought he knew enough. It seemed he might have been wrong. 

“Like, enough that they came armed.”

“I know.”

“Derek, the Wraith are still out there.” 

“I gathered that all on my own, Stiles.” He wanted to be harder, harsher, Stiles was always making out like Derek was nothing more than dumb muscle, but his heart was racing and his tone too high. Derek realised he was scared. “They haven’t come here in years.” He tried to soothe. He knew he wasn’t the most soothing person. 

“But what if they come back?” Stiles hissed. “What if I can’t make the wards work? The books just say ‘you’ll know when you know’, Derek. That's not a manual.”

“I’m sure it's like… like the Wolf.” He tried. “It’s just… something you know.”

“Like how fish are born knowing how to swim?”

“Or how you knew how to be annoying from the moment you learned how to talk?”

“Har.” Stiles shot back. He looked over his shoulder where the team were following, having their own conversations that Derek was  _ definitely  _ listening in on. Mostly, they didn’t trust Stiles (which was weird, Derek would have thought that he was the least trustworthy looking one out of them) and they were expecting a small village. They were in for a bit of a shock. 

* * *

 

“So, this is Beacon Hills.” Stiles said, as they stepped out of the forest. The town stretched out for miles - from where they stood you could make out the high rises of downtown, the quiet suburbs, even the football pitch by the high school. The wearhouse district loomed like a dark shadow far off to the west, where the manufacturing took place, too far away for the sound to even register with the local Wolves who lived in the town. “Uh, it’s not a lot to look at, but like, it’s home?”

“You have bigger towns than this?” Teyla asked, sounding awed. 

“Well, yeah?” Stiles shrugged. “I mean, I was going to go to college in one of the bigger cities but my dad wasn’t too keen on it and Talia thought it might be best to keep me by the Gate. We’re the only place that actually believes in the old ways.” He paused. “We’re the backward hicks of the planet.” Derek wasn’t the only one who picked up on the bitter tone there. 

“Kid, trust me -” Shepard said, “This is not a backward town. I’ve seen some backward towns. Hell, I’ve lived in some.” 

“Oh.” Stiles seemed pleased at that. Derek frowned. It wasn’t this guys place to make Stiles feel better. “Well, I guess you’d better get this over with. Some people are not going to be very happy to see you.”

* * *

 

The understatement was… well…. Very understated. “You went to the Death Circle?” His dad was yelling. Stiles didn’t need to have a wolves hearing to know that Derek was getting chewed out too. “You deliberately went out to the one place I told you not to go?” 

“It wasn’t my fault!” He tried again “And look - people!”

“People who might bring the Soul Eaters back!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you!” 

The visitors were milling around - Stiles wasn’t really paying his dad a lot of attention really, most of his focus was on the newcomers. They were trying to look as unassuming as possible, Stiles wasn’t convinced. They had been told to leave their weapons at the door of Talia's living room - Stiles was pretty sure they hadn’t left them all (and he was pretty sure that the Wolves were aware of that too) but as a sign of goodwill, neither Stiles or the Wolves said anything. Currently Sheppard was looking at the baby photographs on the fireplace. Stiles hoped that the ones of Derek were getting enough attention - his lil baby bunny teeth and bowl cut were worth the one of Stiles that was up there too - his buzz cut and missing tooth had nothing on Derek's dorky as hell grin. Stiles may have had a copy made.

Eventually though, his dad ran out of steam (Stiles was actually surprised, he got more of a reaction when he went missing for three days in the woods trying to prove he could out-hide Derek. He had - but the resulting manhunt was enough to get him grounded for 3 months) 

“Welcome to Beacon Hills.” Talia said, turning from Derek with one last frown at her son. Derek looked like he’d been slapped - Stiles actually felt bad for the arrogant asshole. It wasn’t  _ really  _ his fault, he was just following Stiles. “I’m sorry if this wasn’t quite the reception you were hoping for - but you must understand, that your arrival is… not ideal.”

“I can’t say that’s the first time we’ve had that reaction.” Sheppard smiled. He was doing a good impression of a charming gentleman. “But honestly, we’re just as surprised as you - this place… it could be Earth.”

Talia looked at Stiles when he opened his mouth, and he found himself shutting it again with a click. Right. Shut up. 

“Mr Sheppard - this  **_is_ ** Earth.” 

The visitors stared at Talia with a strange expression. “You all this place Earth?” McKay said, looking confused. 

“Yes? What else would we call it?”

That seemed to stump the mouthy one, Stiles thought a little smugly. Smarter than Stiles. Ha. 

“Well, uh, it's not  _ our  _ Earth. Where we’re from.” He finished, looking a little abashed. 

Stiles couldn’t have kept his mouth shut for a huge bag of money and unlimited logo teeshirts. “I thought you said you were from Atlantis.” 

“I’m from Earth.” Sheppard said. “I just work on Atlantis.”

Stiles snorted. So did Derek - which made Stiles crow in delight, despite the situation they found themselves in. “I knew you’d seen them! I knew you were just fucking with me!”

“Stiles!” Four separate people cut in, the same tired voices. 

“What? He’s hiding the fact he’s a giant nerd!” Stiles pointed out - and rightly so - Derek was forever making fun of Stiles with his raised eyebrows and pointed looks when Stiles got too excited about the latest episode of Stranger Things or how great the new Star Wars movies were. 

“We have bigger issues than Derek being a secret Trekkie.” His dad pointed out - traitor. 

“Wait, what did you say?” McKay asked, shoving his traveling companions out of the way. “What... wait?” He was looking back and forth between Stiles and his dad like he was trying to solve some kind of complicated equation. 

“Dereks a nerd?” Stiles supplied, a little confused by this. “I mean, he doesn’t look like a nerd, with all the brooding and the ‘grr’” he said, holding up his hands into claws. “And the lack of eyebrows,” he totally didn’t miss the way Talia tried to hide her smile at that, “but yeah, dudes a big ol’ nerd who lies to me. Me! His emissary!”

McKay waved his arms in the air like Stiles was nothing more than an annoying fly and started rambling on about Star Trek which, yes - wasn’t that what Stiles was trying to say the whole time?

“You can’t have STar Trek!” He ended with, looking half way smug, half way manic. 

“Dude, you don’t own it.” Stiles pointed out. “That's like me saying  _ you  _ can’t have Star Wars.” 

* * *

 

It took a long time for the Stiles-like nerd and Stiles to stop yelling after that - and four phone calls to someplace with a 24 digit phone number to finally get things to calm down. 

Derek was already bored, but he was trying hard not to show it - especially when it turned out that everything was… about mirror universes and alternative lines and… 

“So!” Stiles was saying, bouncing on his toes and looking gleeful, “You're basically saying that this is an Alternative Universe where we don’t have a secret military base in a mountain, but we do have werewolves?”

“Yes!” Rodney jumped in, jesus they were just as bad as each other. “For some reason - which I will figure out - we’ve skipped through not only space but reality.”

“Sliders.” Stiles nodded, sagely. 

“Exactly! Yes! Exactly like Sliders.” A pause. “Although we don’t know for sure about the whole werewolves thing because we have like, the folk tales and horror movies but no… um… actual people. That we know of.”

“It’s not a secret here.” 

“Maybe it is on the real Earth.” Sheppard pointed out, which Derek thought made sense until both Stiles and McKay jumped in with:

“This is the real Earth!” 

“It’s just not  _ our  _ Earth.” 

“Well that just clears everything right up.” Dex said, and Derek tried not to bristle when Stiles looked at the larger man like he hung the moon, only to have his shoulders slump down a  few seconds later. “Oh, you’re being sarcastic.” 

“I get that this is all very exciting and new to everyone.” The sheriff said, patting Stiles on the head, “But what does it actually mean? In terms of the Soul Eaters - because I am not about to start a planetary panic if I don’t have to.” 

That seemed to stump everyone for a little while - it was one of the reasons Stiles was so frustrating - his father was down to earth and thought long term, while Stiles seemed to fly by the seat of his stupid looking jeans most of the time. 

“Well,” Teyla said, slowly. “I think that in this world, this… reality… perhaps the Wraith are gone.”

“But you won't know that until you get to  _ our  _ Atlantis.” Stiles pointed out. 

“And we won’t be able to get to this Atlantis -”

“Because there isn’t a Stargate base here.”

Stiles and McKay high fived - much to Derek (and, thought he hated to admit it, Dex) disgust. The last thing they ne-

“The last thing we need is for these two to form a bond.” Dex grumbled, and Derek found himself grinding his teeth at the shit eating grin Stiles gave the larger man. Stiles usually reserved those for Derek. 

“Lord help us all.” He heard his mother comment under her breath. Derek knew that only the wolves would have heard her, but he was sure that the humans knew something had been said by the way the park was trying not to laugh.


End file.
